ANMELDENI hope you're enjoying it. The steam is yet to come
The SUV bounced violently over uneven roads, headlights cutting through the darkness like knives. Matteo’s arms were locked around me, one hand pressed hard against the bleeding wound in my side, the other cradling my head against his chest. His heartbeat thundered under my ear—erratic, desperate, alive. Every jolt sent fresh agony through my body, but I clung to him tighter, fingers digging into his blood-soaked shirt.“Stay with me,” he growled, voice raw and broken. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, Alexandria. I won’t lose you. Not now.”Tears slipped down my cheeks, mixing with the blood on his chest. The message on the phone still burned behind my eyelids: *Twins. One Matteo’s. One Drago’s.* My stomach twisted—not just from pain, but from the impossible weight of it. How? When? The pill. The chaos. The way Drago had looked at me in that room like he already owned a piece of my future.“I’m scared,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the engine’s roar. “What if it’s true? W
I woke to the taste of copper and the steady beep of machines. My head throbbed like someone had split it open, and my neck burned where Priya’s needle had pierced the skin. The room was dim, unfamiliar—stone walls, heavy velvet drapes, the faint scent of old wine and antiseptic. Not the penthouse. Not the Bellini Estate.My eyes fluttered open. Matteo.He sat slumped in a chair beside the bed, wrists bound to the arms, head hanging forward. Blood crusted his dark hair, his shirt was shredded and soaked through. But he was breathing. Alive.“Matteo,” I croaked, trying to sit up. My arm screamed where Priya’s bullet had grazed it, and my body felt heavy, drugged.His head snapped up instantly. Those dark eyes—usually so cold and commanding—flooded with raw, devastating relief. “Alexandria.” His voice was wrecked, barely a whisper. “Thank God. I thought I lost you.”Tears stung my eyes as the memories crashed back: the gunfire, Priya’s betrayal, my father’s body jerking, Giulia’s scream
Gunfire tore through the grand hall like thunder. Bullets ricocheted off marble columns and crystal chandeliers, sending shards raining down like deadly confetti. I was shoved behind Matteo’s broad back, his body a living shield even as fresh blood soaked through his makeshift bandages. My heart hammered so violently I could barely breathe. Priya—*my Priya*—stood across the chaos with her gun trained on me, tears streaming down her face but her hand steady.“Alex, please!” she shouted over the noise. “Drop the gun and come to me. I never wanted it to go this far. I was trying to save you from him!”Matteo’s arm tightened around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. His voice was a low, feral growl. “She’s not going anywhere with you.” Despite the pain twisting his features, his dark eyes burned with that same possessive fire that had consumed me since the night he took me. “Touch her and I’ll paint these walls with your blood, Priya.”I felt torn in two. The friend who had been
My fingers trembled as I pressed them harder against the ragged bullet wound in Matteo’s shoulder. Blood seeped between them, warm and relentless, staining my skin and the remnants of my clothes. The air in Giulia’s suite was thick with the metallic scent of violence, the sharp bite of gunpowder, and the lingering musk of our desperate coupling. My body still hummed from the way he’d taken me—brutal, claiming, necessary. Yet my heart felt like it was fracturing into a thousand jagged pieces.Matteo stared down at the phone in his hand, his dark eyes hollow with a pain I’d never witnessed in him before. The video of Giulia—bruised but regal, carrying Drago’s twins—had gutted him. And the flatline threat hanging over everything made my stomach twist with nausea.“We have fifty minutes,” he said, voice hoarse. He cupped my face with his uninjured hand, thumb smearing blood across my cheek. His touch was rough but reverent, like I was the last fragile thing in his crumbling empire. “I sho
Alexandria’s POVThe video ended, but Giulia’s face stayed burned behind my eyes—bruised, defiant, and carrying another man’s child. Drago’s voice echoed in my head like a death sentence.Matteo’s hand crushed mine, his grip iron-hard, but I felt the tremor underneath. The most dangerous man in Lisbon was unraveling, and I was the only thing left he could hold onto.The elevator dinged again. Footsteps—multiple sets—echoed down the main corridor. Heavy. Purposeful. Not Matteo’s men.“Stay behind me,” he growled, voice raw. He grabbed Romano’s gun from the floor, checked the chamber, and pulled me toward the bedroom door. His body was still warm from what we’d just done, but the tenderness was gone. Only the predator remained.We barely made it into the hallway when they came around the corner—four of Drago’s men, armed, faces hidden behind tactical masks. The lead one raised his weapon.Matteo didn’t hesitate. He shoved me behind a marble pillar and opened fire. The gunshot cracked lik
Alexandria’s POVI ran.My bare feet pounded against the cold marble floor of the corridor, heart hammering so hard it felt like it would crack my ribs. Matteo’s voice had cracked on that single word—*Romano*—in a way I’d never heard before. Not the cold command I knew so well. Not even the raw fury after the Rossi attack. This was something deeper. Broken.I skidded around the corner into Giulia’s suite, breath catching in my throat.Matteo stood in the center of the room, back to me, shoulders rigid like coiled steel. Romano was on his knees in front of him, blood trickling from a split lip and a fresh cut above his eye. Matteo’s stolen gun lay on the floor a few feet away. Romano’s hands were raised, but that same eerie, knowing smile still twisted his mouth.“You found me,” Romano said, voice thick with blood. “Took you long enough.”Matteo’s fist flew without warning. The crack of knuckles against bone echoed sickeningly. Romano’s head snapped to the side, but he only laughed—a w
Alexandria’s POVHis name was Drago Kosta.I didn’t know that yet. I learned it the way I had learned most things in this penthouse — by paying attention to what wasn’t being said. By watching the way Matteo’s jaw worked when the man spoke. By the particular quality of Romano’s stillness at the far
I didn’t scream.Screaming required a functioning throat and mine had sealed itself shut the moment I registered what Romano was holding. Matteo’s gun — I recognized it the way you recognized something you’d seen in a man’s hand often enough that the shape of it became familiar. Black. Heavy. Curre
I read it four times.He’s already inside, Alexandria.Then I folded it back into my palm, closed my fingers around it, and sat very still on the edge of the bed. Because if the camera in the corner of this room was feeding to someone other than Matteo’s security right now — and after tonight I had
I didn’t move.The woman standing in the frame was nobody I recognized. Older. Dark coat despite the hour, silver threading through her hair, posture so composed it looked practiced. She held nothing in her hands. She didn’t need to. The way she looked at me, unhurried, unsurprised, like she had al







